Both plays set out to examine the ugly ways that American capitalism has twisted itself up with the striving of characters of color - characters whose immediate roots stretch beyond the U.S. and whose ambitions within its borders have resulted in a malignant combination of rugged self-reliance and internalized self-hatred.
The short version: Hannah was married to Andrew, and Anna was married to Ryan. Then Anna and Andrew slept together and both marriages blew up. Then, six years after that, just as Andrew was finishing the manuscript of a novel closely paralleling his breakup, he found out that Hannah had beat him to the punch: Her book about a marriage-destroying affair (subtitled "A Memoir [kind of]") would be published nine months before his.
On paper, the new Broadway revival of Yasmina Reza's Art sounds like a winner: three Tony Award winners Neil Patrick Harris, Bobby Cannavale, and James Corden trading barbs in a sleek comedy about male friendship and the value of modern art. The result is hardly terrible, but it is slight. The laughs are modest, the pacing drags, and the play never builds beyond its simple conceit.